


Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Bonding, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Don't copy to another site, Drama Queen Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, M/M, Pack Bonding, Paintball, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “We had a good ride, huh?” Stiles asked, offering Scott a sad smile. “You and me. We did good.”“Yeah man,” Scott agreed, gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand. “We did good.”“Best we could,” Stiles said. Scott nodded grimly.“You could still go,” Scott said softly, hand tightening on Stiles’ shoulder. “Run. Save yourself.”“Hey,” Stiles insisted, grabbing at the forearm closest to him, “I’m with you, okay? Always. We started this together, we’re gonna finish it together.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 43
Kudos: 1030





	Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.

His lungs were burning, his legs felt like they were made of lead, and no matter how fast he ran, he could tell they were right on top of him. They were going to catch up to him. They were going to get him, and it would be over. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to go out like this! Not as the last one! Not running, alone and blind in the dark woods! This wasn’t what he’d envisioned for himself! 

Stiles almost let out a shout when he was grabbed from the side and wrenched behind some kind of weird rock formation. He was pressed back against the stone and Stiles was able to make out the profile of the person who’d yanked him aside. 

“Scott,” he hissed, relieved. 

“Quiet,” Scott said urgently, tilting his head to the side, listening to something Stiles could never hope to hear. “We’re the only ones left.”

“What are our chances?” Stiles asked, feeling his stomach twist with nerves and fear. 

Scott winced, and that was all the answer Stiles needed. 

They weren’t going to make it. This was the end for them. Everyone else was gone, it was just the two of them now. There was no way they could get themselves out of this now. They were done for. This was the _end_! 

“We had a good ride, huh?” Stiles asked, offering Scott a sad smile. “You and me. We did good.” 

“Yeah man,” Scott agreed, gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand. “We did good.” 

“Best we could,” Stiles said. Scott nodded grimly. 

“You could still go,” Scott said softly, hand tightening on Stiles’ shoulder. “Run. Save yourself.” 

“Hey,” Stiles insisted, grabbing at the forearm closest to him, “I’m with you, okay? Always. We started this together, we’re gonna finish it together.” 

Scott offered him a small, sad smile, squeezed his shoulder once, then released it. He glanced to the left, tilting his head again, and licked his lips. 

“They’re coming.” 

“If we go down,” Stiles said, shifting positions so he was crouching instead of sitting, “we go down like _men_.” 

“It’s been a privilege to call you my friend,” Scott said solemnly. 

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” Stiles insisted, punching him lightly. “We could still—you know, stranger things have happened.” 

Scott just scoffed but he shifted his own position so he was crouching similarly to Stiles, the two of them peeking out from around either side of their little hideout. 

“On three?” Stiles offered. 

“On three,” Scott agreed. 

They alternated counting down between the two of them, and then burst out from behind the rock formation. Stiles let out a loud cry of rage while he ran headlong into danger, and had barely raised the weapon in his hands when he felt pressure hit him in the chest. 

“Stiles!” Scott shouted from somewhere to his left, horrified. 

Stiles slowly looked down, seeing the red staining his chest, and fell to his knees. He turned to look at Scott, who’d taken shelter behind a tree, expression horrified. He reached out one hand towards him. 

“Scott... avenge me...” 

Stiles fell face-first into the dirt, his face-guard protecting him from getting a mouthful of leaves even as Scott cursed colourfully from beside him, the continued sounds of ‘thwack’ exploding around him. 

“Do you yield?” a voice called from above Stiles, evidently speaking to Scott. 

“Never! I die like a man!” Scott shouted back. 

“Suit yourself,” the voice said, and Stiles knew that Scott was going to regret those words. 

For a few seconds, all he heard was the distinct sound of paint pellets hitting trees while the other team tried to corner Scott. And then, finally, it was over. With a dismayed cry from Scott—and a triumphant whoop from the other team—the battle was over. 

The red team won. The blue team was defeated. 

“I swear you guys cheat,” Stiles said, finally pulling himself back upright and sitting his ass on his shoes, still kneeling on the ground and glaring up at a smirking Boyd. “You have the Alpha _and_ the archer on your team. That’s like, double power. Unfair.” 

“You’re just a sore loser,” Allison teased with a smirk, walking past him with her paintball gun over one shoulder. She was probably heading over to soothe Scott’s wounded ego. 

“At least you were the second to last to die,” Boyd offered, though he was still smirking like an asshole. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him while taking the offered hand up, allowing the Werewolf to yank him to his feet. He pulled the face-guard off and raked one hand through his hair, the paintball gun he’d been using having fallen somewhere beside him during his dramatic death scene.

If nothing else, at least he got to be dramatic about dying. That was something, he supposed. And fun. The _winners_ never got to have dramatic death scenes, so really, who was the _real_ winner here? 

Stiles felt like a winner. 

Boyd half-turned when leaves crunched underfoot and Stiles could make out the vague shape of his boyfriend. Really, that was another unfair advantage to all this. Stiles couldn’t see in the dark, and while Allison couldn’t either, she was _used_ to hunting things in the dark. Stiles wasn’t. 

Unfair. So unfair. But again: boss-ass death scenes. The drama! The heartache! It was all worth it. 

“We done for the night then?” Boyd asked as Derek approached. 

“Three games is more than enough. Isaac and Scott will deal with the cleanup this week.” 

“Sounds good,” Boyd said. 

Stiles pretended to pout as Derek approached him, but he frowned when Derek... kept... approaching. 

“Uh, Der—what the _fuck_?!” he demanded when Derek bent down, pressed his shoulder to Stiles’ middle, and lifted him clear off the ground, continuing to walk as if he hadn’t broken his stride to grab Stiles, carrying him off fireman-style. Stiles’ face-guard had hit the ground at the unexpected action and he saw Boyd bend down to pick it up. “Dude, what—?” 

“Spoils of war,” Derek informed him. Was he _smirking_?! Oh, he was _definitely_ smirking! What a dick! 

“I’ll spoil _your_ war all right!” Stiles said heatedly, slapping insistently at his boyfriend’s ass. “I am _not_ a maiden being carried off by a brute, fuck you, put me down!” 

“You wanna walk the two miles back to the loft?” 

Stiles paused in his next swing to hit Derek’s ass. Had they made it out into the preserve that far? It never seemed to be that far when they were playing, but he supposed he’d run quite a ways. It made sense after three games that they’d end up that far into the preserve. 

“Fine,” Stiles said, allowing himself to hang limply over Derek’s shoulder. “You still cheat, though.” 

He jerked when Derek smacked his ass and retaliated by doing the same. 

They had an ass-slapping contest the entire walk back to the loft. 

Stiles was pretty sure he won. 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Drama Queen Stiles is like, my new thing... It's just so fucking funny to me... Is it the sleep deprivation? It's probably the sleep deprivation. 
> 
> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis 
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
